Mental Health Ward Patient's Diary- Emily Robinson
by PjTurnbull
Summary: This is a short story I wrote for my English Extension class. It contains werewolves, a mental ward patient's diary and a bad ass called Max.


Mental Health Ward Patient's Diary- Emily Robinson

_The following is a recollection of events witnessed by eighteen-year old Emily Robinson, who checked into the Mental Health Ward in 2014. When she was unable to verbally recall the events that had put here there she was asked to write them in a diary. This is that diary:_

I met Joe Thatch long before the events of that dreaded night. We had grown up together and it wasn't until the summer we both turned 18, just on the dawn of adulthood, that I noticed anything different about him. The change came quickly, almost overnight. Suddenly his lean boyish form was replaced by a new mass of flesh that made his skin fight to contain it. This change perplexed me in the most curious way. I mean, I'm not stupid I know how bodies work and grow, but something about this seemed inhuman, uncanny even. I became overcome with the desire to find out more about what had happened to him.

It was on a pleasantly clear and unassuming day when I got the first glimpse into what was consuming Joe. On that day we were walking along a quiet backstreet, when suddenly a man appeared as if he was an apparition. By looking into his deep set eyes I could see that he was deathly dangerous. Before I even had a chance to let out a scream the man had grabbed my forearm. His grasp tightened around my tiny pale wrist like wrought iron handcuffs. I inhaled a quick breath that was as sharp as a knife. The man raised his other hand to take my shoulder, when suddenly Joe jerked the man back with the power and force of at least ten men. Not only was Joe strong but his already substantial frame had grown even more, the attacker seemed miniscule as Joe towered above him. Stranger still his skin had become covered in a thick coat of dark black fur. Joe dealt with the man, now his victim, in a way that could only be described as gruesome and obscenely bloody, but he was quick as if he had done this before. Tearing at the man's jugular like a rabid dog, Joe showed no mercy.

Joe Thatch is not the good natured man that I had grown rather fond of, but I fear he is something other worldly, maybe even supernatural.

Following these events I remained distant from Joe for quite some time. When I saw him tear at that man's throat I was horrified and ran as far away from his as possible. Weeks passed and I spent every one of them trying my best to avoid him. He had protected me, this much was true, but I had never imagined that he could become the monster he was now. Joe used to be an honest man, who rejected all violence. He had bought me a silver crucifix necklace so he could always be close to my heart. He resented me wearing it now, but I still did even if he became strangely distant when I did. I didn't know him anymore; he had been replaced by a cold blooded killer. Simply wondering who or what had changed him proved impossible. I needn't wonder for long though, soon I came head to head with exactly what I was looking for.

A strong and consistent rapping could be heard around my house. The knocking seemed to be eternal and it became apparent that the only way to silence it would be to answer the door. As I got up to see who had decided to intrude, I noticed an unmistakable chill that hung in the air. When I answered the door I was faced with two monuments of humans. One was a girl. She was tall and from some angles may have looked slight and delicate, but if you stared long enough there was no missing the hardness and strength that hid behind the delicate features. The other was a man; he looked older than the girl by about fifteen years. His limbs appeared to have been replaced by the thick and solid trunks of oak trees. The veins that ran down them were even more pronounced than the one on Joe's. There they stood on my front porch in the middle of suburbia, dressed all in black looking as if they could pounce at any moment.

A few seconds passed whilst they glared down at me; it felt like hours. They appeared to be sizing me up for something, but what? When I finally felt that I was going to crumple under the weight of their stares, the man turned to the girl and nodded. Without saying a single word the girl shot out her hand, with the kind of swift precision I had only seen in one other being. Bewildered, I tentatively took her hand and shook it as firmly as I could muster.

"The name's Max White…" she declared in a voice that was deep and demanding. I did not care to ask her if Max was short for Maxine, "…and this Gunner Williams." Gunner did not offer his hand but gave another abrupt nod this time in my direction.

"You are Emily? Emily Robinson?" Max spoke with such an assertive tone that I would have agreed even if my name was something like Isabella Sanders.

"We have something of grave importance concerning a young man by the name of Joe Thatch that must be discussed. I assume you'll let us into you premises so we can give you the appropriate information." Still slightly in a state of awe at the mention of Joe's name and the powerful forces of being before me I fumbled to open the door and led them inside.

Once seated on the pastel yellow cloth lounges that my mother had insisted on having, Max began to explain exactly what had been going on.

"Your friend Joe Thatch, well he was what we call assigned," before I could even ask her what she meant she began a rapid explanation.

"You see Joe has been transformed into a supernatural being. A a werewolf to be exact. Gunner and I are of his kind. Once there were many of us but now we are few," she paused for a moment and reflected. For someone who spoke with little emotion, I couldn't help but notice that something had caught her throat in the last sentence.

"To make sure our kind does not go completely extinct we must select those we see fit to fill our quota. This has proved to be effective but there are difficulties," she drew out this last word, her eyes glaring into me like daggers.

"We have reports of the little incident that occurred a few weeks ago," my mind flashed back to the day of my attack.

"We don't like to take risks on humans knowing about us and exposing information that might threaten our existence." She was standing now, creeping towards me. Sinking back into my seat I felt a rush of terror run through my veins. Claws had begun to grow where Max's short, neat nails had been and her smooth skin began sprouting the same dark fur as I'd seen on Joe. All of a sudden the terror changed into adrenaline as I felt my legs straighten beneath me, as I headed towards the door, in one swift action Gunner stood and used his mighty fist to knock me to the ground.

My head was still ringing with the force of Gunner's blow when I woke up. Time had passed from when Max and Gunner had perched like two menacing black ships on an ocean of yellow couch. The sun had been replaced by the lurking full moon, which taunted the night sky with its brightness. Surveying my surroundings I had noticed I had been dumped in the cemetery that was kilometres from the outskirts of town. I knew who had put me there and had a fairly good idea why. I stared at the tombstones that jutted out of the ground like the teeth of a horrible beast and was engulfed with the fear of this awfully desolate place. I read the names on some of the tombstones and was overcome with the realisation that I might soon be joining them.

A familiar tall figure came out of the shadows. I felt every muscle in my body tense and then relax when I realised that it was Joe. He saw me and began to run towards me. Just as he was about to reach me Gunner bowled him over. I watched in horror as both their already sturdy builds turned into powerful canine forms. The sound of growls echoed in the cold night air. I tried to scream, but my throat stifled the piercing noise. Behind me I heard I heard a laugh, it was self-assured, and the person it belonged to was clearly comfortable with the brawl that we were witnessing. Even before I turned I knew the laugh belonged to Max.

"Funny, huh?" she said as if she was talking about a hilarious joke.

"Noisy though, that's why we prefer to go ahead with our proceedings out here, no suspicious noises that way and we take good care of any other evidence." I could feel my heart beat against my ribs; I had a clear idea of what the other evidence may have consisted of.

"You're monsters, how could you do this?" these were the first words I had spoken to Max and they came out surprisingly confident.

"I don't know. Why don't you ask your little boyfriend?" she stopped and laughed mockingly. "Well you could have but something tells me you won't be able to now."

I looked over to where Gunner and Joe both lay. Both had returned to their human forms and were covered in thick blood. I did not need to check eithers pulse to be sure that they would soon be making the ground they lay on top of their permanent residence.

Filled with an uncontrollable rage, I turned to attack Max. My limbs pumped like crazy but Max stayed still, a picture of serenity. I did not even see the slightest tuft of fur appear on her skin. When I reached her, she thrust out her hand like a viper darting at its prey. Wrapping her hand around my throat she went to strangle me, when she stopped and suddenly loosened her grip. The hard and beautiful features of her face shattered as she peered at my neck. My silver crucifix had pierced her skin and by the way she had frozen in fear, unable to move a single fibre of her being, it was causing her excruciating pain. She made one last desperate attempt to remove her hand, but it was too late. Max, powerful and cocky, crumpled to the ground as if her legs had been replaced with tissue paper. Her death was as swift and direct as she was, and now her lifeless body lay at my feet. For a moment all went silent and I was left alone with the horrors of what I'd just witnessed.

I stood outside in that terrible place, the home of the dead, and the wind began to howl. The strenuous shrieks seemed almost like cries recounting the horrible images I had seen there. I looked up to see the full and heavy moon pierce the darkness that blanketed the night sky. I dare not think of the horrors that now inhabit my mind. I will never escape the horrors of that place.


End file.
